


Little Love, A Little Sympathy (Something Good)

by Ericine



Series: Lush [9]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Sex, Blindfolds, Empathy, Multi, Restraints, Shibari, Shore Leave, Sleepy Sex, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 16:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12346287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ericine/pseuds/Ericine
Summary: They’ll both tell Beverly later that this was her idea, which is technically true, but Deanna was the inspiration.





	Little Love, A Little Sympathy (Something Good)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leyenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyenn/gifts).



> Did you know that Maroon 5's "Sugar" and Katy Perry's "Birthday" basically have the same melody?
> 
> For Leyenn, who gives me ideas. <3 And also because birthdays on this damn ship are always so eventful in terrible ways. People deserve nice things on their birthdays.

They’ll both tell Beverly later that this was her idea, which is technically true, but Deanna was the inspiration. They’ve gone on shore leave together. It’s a rocky crystalline moon that’s much too cold for Deanna’s liking, but Will and Beverly promise to keep her warm, and the first time she watches the double sunrise reflecting rainbows to infinity through the fragments of glassy cave rock, she almost cries at the beauty of it, and they stay. Deanna walks around their guesthouse wearing the most ridiculous fluffy lavender bathrobe - it’s twice her size, Beverly swears - but she stays.

And she sleeps. They’re all trained to wake up on the turn of a pin, early with the ship, but it’s always been just a little bit harder for Deanna to wake up than it is for the both of them.

So that’s how they end up like this - Deanna curled peacefully on Beverly’s left with more blankets than she has the right to have, fast asleep and cradling an extra pillow against her cheek like she loves to do, and Beverly and Will, making up for the loss of the replicated fur by clinging to each other and kissing heatedly, his hand wet between her legs and her hand wrapped around his cock, trying to balance their own pleasure with their care not to rock the bed too much, lest Deanna wake up.

Will jumps in her hand, and Beverly tenses, trying to stop her hips from bucking forward. He’s touching her clit, light and fast, just the way she likes, and he swallows her hum into his mouth. Even though she can’t push him down and mount him the way she wants to, ride him hard and fast until they’re tired enough to go back to bed and not worry about the rest of the day, it’s hot - her thigh slung over his, the way his chests just brushes against her oversensitive nipples, the way she can’t move or make the sounds the way she wants to. The way she’d slid into consciousness and they were _already like this_ , having gravitated toward each other in their sleep.

She pauses a moment, rubs against herself and take Will back into her wet hand, and he groans soft and low. “ _Fuck_ , Beverly.”

It’s been two years now, give or take some breaks, and it still blows her mind that both of these people want to share their bed, their lives with her - that she can make them feel like this. She bites his lower lip gently - and she pays for that - three fingers inside her, rough against that spot that makes her throw back her head and moan, but she manages to muffle herself and makes it back to his lips. “That’s what I’m trying to do,” she whispers, wrapping her hand behind his head and kissing him deep.

“Fuck,” he growls again, quiet. But she’s sliding closer to him now - his tip’s directly brushing up against her wetness, and they’re going to need to figure out something soon, because she’s not sure if she can stop herself if he slips inside her.

“For the love of the _deities_ ,” Deanna moans suddenly. “Do it already, or I’m going to scream.”

They meet eyes for only a moment, but a moment’s all they need. Beverly flips over onto her side, meeting Deanna’s mouth where she’s turned over her shoulder. She pulls up the silk nightgown that Deanna favors so much - even here in the cold - and Will yanks Beverly’s thigh up over his, a little rough, the way she likes it. He taps his fingers on her shoulder - one, two, three times, and she slides her fingers into Deanna - a V, catching her clit between them as she goes - and he pushes into her at the same time, quick and wet. She’s so ready, and Deanna is too. The smaller woman moans again - _loud_ \- and shifts onto her back, legs spread. Beverly brings her mouth to one of her breasts as Will cups hers, teasing, thrusting. Even with his fingers on her breast, he keeps the rhythm so they can do this at the same time.

Deanna reaches up and pushes Beverly’s hair out of her face. “Beverly--” And her eyes are still closed - had she ever opened them? “--tell us when, okay? We’re going to--” And she moans again, loud. “Will, do it, _do it now_ , it’s _so_ \--” And she moans again, and Beverly slams her hips back against Will’s because all she wants is for her to make that sound more, and she knows he’s sharing this feeling with her, every sensation.

Will slides his hand down to Beverly’s clit, quick and light, and Beverly’s trying to find the words to say it, but she’s can’t think right now with all the _feeling_. Deanna opens her eyes, and Beverly nods.

That’s as good as telling her.

They don’t exactly come together, but it’s like lightning, several strikes close together. Wet and hot and slick and _good_ , and it’s like there’s not enough surface area on her to get as close to them as she wants.

They’re supposed to go back to sleep after this, but their hands find their way back to each other, and it’s starting again, slowly, but Beverly figures - as she did when they got here - that’s she’s not getting out of bed for a while.

“Can you really get all of that just from me and Will?” Beverly asks, in-between kisses on Deanna’s perfect mouth. Deanna nods, smiling laughter, and when she turns around to kiss Will, their eyes meet again, and the seed is planted.

* * *

Deanna’s in the shower - one with water, because she likes the way it feels sometimes (even if it means she needs a few extra minutes with her hair) and it seems fitting with all the crystals around her that she should bathe in something similar-looking when she picks up on playful arousal.

Very playful.

She grins and stands under the water spray, letting the anticipation build up in her as the liquid stream slides over her scalp. _Imzadi, what are you planning?_

_Me? Nothing. This is all our wild card’s doing._

Deanna grins and begins a second conditioning of her hair.

When she exits the shower wrapped in her towel (she’s switched it out with the robe - she’s too intrigued to know what this is, and anyway, it means she gets undressed that much faster), she’s greeted by Beverly and Will in their underwear _playing tug-of-war_...with...something.

“I just think you should be the one to present it!”

“Why?”

“She’s more used to you?”

“Beverly, _must you direct everything like it’s a play?_ ”

Deanna clears her throat, amused. They turn around, sheepish. Will shoots Beverly an encouraging look, and Beverly answers by rolling her eyes.

Bev’s underwear of choice today is lingerie the dark red color she often favors when she’s off duty - a light knitted fabric - except she’s taken a page out of Deanna’s book and opted for something so sheer that it’s little more than decoration, hanging over her slim frame and just brushing her upper thighs. It’s the only thing she’s wearing. She holds up a coil of black cord. “Hi. So, I thought we could tie you up in the corner, and we could try to get you off without touching you.”

Behind her, Will grins that grin that wide, easy grin her normally reserves for when her mother says something particularly ridiculous. _Like I said, all her_. He’s impressed - who wouldn’t be? Beverly’s got the most gorgeously sharp tongue on her, one that she keeps in tight control in public, one they’ve managed to tease it out when they’re alone.

Deanna blinks like she’s mildly surprised. “ _Get me off?_ ” She takes a step toward Beverly, eyes glinting with mischief. She’s comfortable in the tension in this room right now. It’s something palpable, something friendly. “I let you kiss me with that mouth?”

Beverly smirks. “In quite a few places, if I remember correctly.” She’s sexy in control. Deanna kisses her, runs her hands down the sides of that barely-there negligee that’s also surprisingly warm, and that’s the last thing she’ll have her hands on in for while, because Beverly’s binding her arms behind her back.

“Which corner?” murmurs Deanna into her mouth. Beverly’s still kissing her, now sliding the towel from her body, and Deanna shivers a little in the cabin air that’s warm but not quite warm enough - there’s a reason they’ve been snuggling under the fur covers all week.

Beverly turns to Will, who motions to a corner. The floor here is not unlike carpet, but something softer, the consistency of warm sand but not loose. Deanna kneels slowly, folding her legs to the side, keeping eye contact on Will’s face. Beverly licks her lips. _Do you want to tell her, imzadi, or should I?_

As if he didn’t hear her, Will walks over to Beverly and runs his hands over her just like Deanna’s just done. She’s soft and warm and so aroused - that part’s from Will’s thoughts, but she doesn’t doubt it for a second. “She doesn’t play nice,” he cautions, bending slowly - agonizingly slowly - to kiss her neck, her shoulder, all that beautiful freckle-dusted skin that Deanna loves. “She might be over there and you’re over here, and you might not be able to hear her so well in your head, but she won’t play nice. Or fair.” _What do you think?_

Deanna doesn’t get a chance to answer. Beverly looks over his shoulder, straight into her eyes, and says, “Good.” And, graceful as a breeze, she drops her her knees, shoves Will’s underwear down in one fluid motion, and takes him into her mouth.

“ _Fuck_.” They swear together - Will in Standard, Deanna in her native tongue. It’ll translate the same. Will was already half-hard, and Beverly takes the length of him - in, out, in, out - and he’s ready. Deanna feels the familiar throb between her legs. Beverly’s good at this - so good with her mouth, and she lets him go for a moment before licking along his length. He steadies himself on her shoulder, and Beverly looks straight back at Deanna again.

“I let you kiss me with that mouth?”

It’s a shot of heat to all three of them. Deanna rolls her head back into the corner of the wall and moans, smiling as she bites her lip, loud, and that throws Beverly off for a moment, but then she’s fucking Will with her mouth (Beverly’s concept - not theirs) again, and Will’s trying to hold on.

Gods, it’s good - the right amount of pressure with her lips around, her tongue twisting and working his length, and _she’s so wet_ , mouths mixing with their shared arousal. Will groans.

He’s close, which means she’s close - she’s half-considering riding his orgasm to her own, when Will turns his head to her and squeezes Beverly’s shoulder - admittedly, harder than he should, but Beverly looks up at him.

“Bed?” he suggests. She nods.

 _Et tu, imzadi?_ It’s playful, but Deanna shifts a little, wetness pooling at her center, watching Will watch her hungrily as Beverly reaches behind one of the pillows and pulls something out.

 _Et me, imzadi._ “You play poker, don’t you, Deanna?”

“I do,” Deanna replies. And then, a little flippant: “Do you?”

Beverly turns around and holds out a strip of cloth. “Let’s up the stakes.”

When she tries to tie it around Deanna’s eyes, Deanna takes the opportunity to tilt her head up and kiss Beverly’s inner thigh, her lips catching the very edge of her nightgown’s fabric as well. Startled, Beverly pauses and leans into her. Distraction, desire.

“Stay strong,” chuckles Will, from where he’s watching them from the bed.

“You could help, you know,” Beverly tells him through breathless laughter.

Will holds his hands out in front of him. “Deanna tied up is a dangerous thing. I applaud your courage. Really, I do. From this side of the room.”

They laugh at that together, and Deanna hums her protest when Beverly finally manages to tie the cloth around her eyes - not that that’s the sense that matters, here.

It’s not the sense that matters at all.

She keeps out as best she can for the first few minutes, to keep herself truly away from the visuals - and gods, she can’t remember when she last did this. Work is where she lives, and work is 1,000 minds intermingled with her own. Most of the time, she’s working to keep that out, just like she’s working to keep out other emotions irrelevant to her job or that challenge her own idea of privacy. She doesn’t have to do that right now. This, what’s happening right now, is completely for her, and it’s a gift that she accepts happily, even as her wrists pain her a little where she’s struggling against her bonds.

She can feel her tongue on Beverly’s breasts, lips on her neck, that thin, sheer, knitted fabric nightgown brushing up against her sensitive skin in all the right ways. There’s a tongue on her jaw, below her ear, on the insides of her wrists ( _Odan’s place_ , she remembers, and she loves that she can share that bond with the two of them as well). Hands on her inner thighs, desire, relentlessness.

She’s gasping at the beginning of it, and now she feels herself moaning low, the wall hard and scratchy on the skin of her arms where they’re bound behind her back. She squeezes her thighs together, but it’s not enough.

She feels the moment he enters her, thick and hard inside of her, Beverly’s warmth around her - hot, wet. But it’s her name that they’re saying, mere footsteps away - she may not be able to see, but she knows what she looks like when she’s like this, has seen it enough times in Will’s head, has heard about it enough times from her lovers to put together how much power she has, even when (especially when) she’s bound and naked like this. _Show me, imzadi_.

For a moment, he listens, and she sees it, Beverly spread under him, her legs bent high (she’s maddeningly flexible), the love bites he’s left on her breasts in the places where Deanna’s pleasantly sore now. But that’s all she gets for now (she could push, and he knows she could, but she doesn’t).

Someone’s saying _please_ , and she’s not entirely who, because she’s also pleading inside her head, and her lovers’ names are on her lips. She can feel the heat rising - she’s so close.

Will pulls out. Again, she’s not sure if the groan is hers or Beverly’s, but then she can feel his tongue, hot and slow right where she needs him, right where she wants him. “ _Oh_ ,” she moans, loud (always loud, for both their benefit). She backs up against the wall again and strains against her binds.

Hunger, desire - full force, hot and red the way it only is from him. _You have to know how you look right now_.

What’s nice about their connection is that she can look at him just like _that_ , even when she can’t see him, even if she’s not right there with him. _Shut up and make me come._

Beverly doesn’t like long and slow - she likes light and quick. And she’s bossy about being on top. Will’s fucking her the way he’d fuck Deanna, and the thought of that alone is nearly enough to make her come from the sheer love behind it.

But she’s got one shred of resolve left, so it’s another low, hot stroke of Will’s tongue and calling out her name that pushes her over the edge.

It’s a blur after that. She knows they come somewhere right after, and then Beverly’s hands are caressing her face and undoing her bonds, and Will’s picking her up (her body’s stiff being being in that corner for so long) and tucking her in bed between them.

“Good?” he asks, smoothing her hair back from her face, warmth and love. Same from Beverly behind her, but hers is tinged with just a little bit of concern.

She tilts her head up and kisses him, taking Beverly’s hand behind her. “Very good,” she replies, then remembers. “I have to get out of bed in a while - I have to call Mother.” She'll have to take a shower again as well - and maybe do something to her hair that doesn't make it look like she's been up against a wall.

"Your mother loves us," Will tells her, and Beverly's eyes flicker between them, amused. "She would absolutely approve of this birthday celebration you're having." Beverly giggles at that and buries her head in Deanna's shoulder.

“We won’t let you forget. If anything, she won't let you forget,” she giggles, pressing a kiss to the back of Deanna's head, right on top of her curls. After Lwaxana had teased their relationship out into the open, she'd routinely called Beverly every few weeks for a while to ask her how she was settling in. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

"I celebrate your life," Will tells her, probably the most direct translation of the way that people grant birthday wishes where she's from.

She draws them just a little closer to her. "And I celebrate yours."


End file.
